


Life

by Summer Rain (Zeram)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Drama, Holiday: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:37:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeram/pseuds/Summer%20Rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a moment of despair Jim wishes that he had been given a life without Sentinel abilities. The granting of that wish opens his eyes and his heart to the impact of his abilties on his life and the lives of those around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers:
> 
> There is a major character death but please don't let it deter you as things aren't always what they seem. The story is based on that classic holiday tale, "It's a Wonderful Life".

## Life

by Wanda Pantera and Summer Rain

Author's webpage: <http://zeram.cjb.net>

Author's disclaimer: Disclaimer: Sentinel and Guide belong to Pet Fly not to us. No monetary units have exchanged hands for this story.

Feedback addy: zeram@earthling.net  
January 8, 2001 

* * *

Life  
By Wanda, Pantera and Summer Rain 

Jim Ellison really loved the Christmas season. 

He loved Christmas, good will to man, all that stuff. The decorations, the fresh baked cookies, the shiny, tightly wrapped gifts. 

But, God, was it getting on his nerves. It had been a long, long day. Trying to finish all his paperwork before the end of the year. Trying to keep up with all the petty crimes that happened at this time of year, praying a major crime didn't happen. And if he saw one more of those Salvation Army Santas! 

Trudging up the stairs, he wanted nothing more than a long shower, and an even longer cuddle with his lover. As he neared the loft, he could hear the sound of Blair singing. His love would never be accused of having a good singing voice, that was for sure, but he loved it when Blair sang anyway. Slowing down, not wanting Blair to stop as soon as he entered the loft, Jim tuned his hearing in to the sound of Blair's voice. 

"Jingle Balls, Jingle Balls." 

_Balls?_ Jim thought. Maybe it was time to get his ears cleaned again. 

"Jingle all the way, oh what fun it is to ride a penis all the way." 

Jim stopped, his hand on the doorknob into the loft, a shocked look spreading across his face. _He's singing DIRTY Christmas songs?!?_

"Jingle Balls, Jingle balls, Jingles all the way, oh what fun it is to ride, fucking all the way, hey!" 

Jim opened the door, and stood leaning against the door jam as the last of the song ended. As Blair slid into another song, an amused look made its way onto Jim's face. A look which quickly turned into a smirk as Blair turned around, mouth hanging open at the sight of Jim standing in the doorway. Whatever the next verse was he had been planning to sing was lost as he stuttered a greeting to Jim. 

"H-hello Jim, I was just uh...." Blair trailed off, his face turning red and an embarrassed grin springing forth. 

Jim turned around to lock the door and tried to suppress the laugh that wanted to escape him. After the door was locked, he turned back around and placed the keys in the basket by the door. He had schooled his face into a severe expression and glanced at Blair who still had the embarrassed look on his face. 

Blair watched as Jim walked towards him, his expression serious. He searched Jim's expression, smiling to himself at the laughter he saw in those eyes, which could not be offset by the expression on Jim's face. 

"Did you like my little Christmas carol, Jim?" Blair said slyly, still a bit embarrassed that Jim had caught him singing. 

"Well...it was different I'll say that," Jim allowed, coming to stop in front of Blair. He smiled down at his love. All of his intentions of seriousness vanishing as he looked down into his partner's face. 

Blair looked up at him, full lips in a wide smile and laughter in his eyes. "Just thought I would spice it up a little, Jim," he said, pausing to lick his lips, smiling as Jim tracked the movement with his eyes. He smiled mischievously and stepped in closer to Jim until they were inches apart, yet not touching. Blair brought a hand up to brush lightly over Jim's chest, knowing Jim would automatically increase his sense of touch to compensate for the light touch through his shirt. 

"I think my version was pretty good," Blair said as he stretched up to nip lightly at Jim's Adams apple, smiling at Jim's groan. "I like the part about fucking all the way. Do you like to fuck, Jim?" Blair asked, licking at Jim's lips before Jim could answer. He danced out of Jim's way as Jim brought his arms up to embrace him. "What about the ride, Jim? Do you want to ride me? Do you want to enter me? Pound into me? Have me surround you? So hot, so tight..." 

Shaking his head with fond exasperation, Jim lunged after the bouncing Blair. Blair gave a little shout of surprise and bolted for the imagined safety of the back of the couch. With Jim in close pursuit, Blair led him in a roundabout chase around the various furnishings of the loft until Jim finally just reached his longer arms over the couch and yanked Blair back onto the cushions, flipping over the back to settle himself alongside his lover's body. Breathing heavily and sweating lightly from the exertion, Jim gazed into Blair's wide blue eyes. 

They looked into each other's eyes as the laughter of the chase died down. Jim turned slightly so that he lay over Blair, enough so that the younger man could feel his weight, but keeping just enough of his weight off of Blair so that he was comfortable. This maneuvering had necessitated that he look away from Blair for a moment but now he turned back to Blair, their gazes locking, as their emotions were laid bare for one another. Blair smiled up at Jim fondly before his grin turned mischievous and then sultry and he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the desire that showed there was that of a smoldering flame. 

Jim didn't need sentinel senses to realize his body temperature had risen about 10 degrees just in response to that look. He felt as if he would drown into the ocean of blue that were Blair's eyes. He shook his head slightly as Blair spoke, feeling as if he were in some sort of daze. 

"Well, Big guy, what are you gonna do now? You've got me under you, our bodies sharing heat. Arching against one another," Blair said as he thrust his groin against Jim's for emphasis. He reached up to lick at Jim's mouth before thrusting again. Nipping at Jim's lip. "But it's not enough is it? I know you want to feel me. You want to rip my clothes off my body. You want to plunge into my heat. You want to fuck me don't you, big guy?" Blair said, feeling the trembling of the body above him in reaction to the coarse words. 

Jim couldn't take anymore. The beautiful body that lay beneath his moving against him sensuously excited him but the words spoken in that husky tone brought him to a fever pitch. He grabbed Blair's head to still it and brought his lips crashing down onto Blair's. His every nerve ending exploded with sensation. The heat of the body underneath him, the soft hair his fingers carded through, twisting around his fingers, the myriad of tastes under his lips. All he could think of was getting more of these stimulations. His body craving more and more input, the feelings crowding out all rational thought, his brain virtually switching off to make room for these incredible sensations. 

He crushed the body below him into himself, trying to absorb as much of the rising heat as possible feeling it envelop him, reflecting the heat radiating from himself, from his need. Still sealing his mouth over the other, plunging his tongue into the warm velvet cavern, he let his weight settle completely. 

His body still reveled in the feelings coursing through it, suddenly his awareness increased when his hearing kicked in. A heartbeat. Fast. Too fast. Frightened. 

A familiar, much loved heartbeat. His guide. His guide was in ... danger? Blair! With a jolt, Jim's higher reasoning skills kicked back in and he wrenched his eyes open. Blair lay unmoving underneath him, face lax, his body crushed under Jim's heavier weight, his mouth still sealed off by his lover's. 

Jim flinched back in sudden horror. He sprang up, taking his weight off of his partner. 

"Blair?" he said, softly, his own heart speeding up at the sight of the supine form of his Guide. When there was no answer he knelt next to the couch and ran his hand over Blair's face. "Blair, baby, please. Please answer me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I'm...oh, God, Blair, please...please!" 

He heard Blair's slow breathing that was slowly picking up, just as his own heartbeat picked up as the full impact of what had happened hit him. He had zoned while kissing Blair! He had hurt Blair. He hurt his guide. His love. His life. 

He scrambled up from where he knelt when Blair gave a racking cough and held him as Blair trembled, gasping slightly for air. 

Blair winced as Jim pulled him up into a sitting position and it suddenly occurred to Jim that Blair was not taking deep breaths but rather kept his breathing shallow. "Blair, come on you've gotta breathe for me." 

Blair nodded but said nothing and kept breathing shallowly, holding his arms around his middle. Jim's eyes narrowed and he reached for Blair's arms. Blair began to breathe deeper, hoping that would distract Jim, but it wasn't enough. Jim already knew that Blair was hiding something and Blair was not yet strong enough to resist as Jim pried his arms apart. Jim yanked Blair's shirt up out of his pants, gasping in horror at the bruises he could already see forming on Blair's torso, evidence of his suffocating embrace. Jim reached out to run trembling fingers over Blair's side, checking with trepidation for signs of broken ribs or other more serious damage, sighing with relief when he didn't find any. 

Jim's jaw clenched with self-loathing. _He_ had done this. He had caused this damage. Not some psycho, not a criminal, not a faceless enemy. _Him_ , the person that was supposed to love Blair, the person that Blair was supposed to be able to trust with his heart, as well as his body. Jim could have screamed with the anguish he felt. Instead he stuffed the impulse inside himself. There would be time to deal with that later. Now . . . now he had to help Blair. 

Pulling Blair's shirt back down, he reached out to cup Blair's cheek, locking his eyes with his lover. A shiver went through his body as he listened, felt, the shallow breath Blair was working for, the full impact of what he had almost done hitting him. "God, I am so sorry babe, I, god, Blair, we need to get you to a doc....." his babble was cut of as Blair gently laid a hand over his mouth. 

"It's all right, Jim. I'm fine. Things got a little out of control, it happens. It's not that big a deal," Blair spoke whisper soft as he smiled up at Jim. 

"Not that big a deal? Not that big a deal! I almost killed YOU!" Jim yelled as he jerked away from Blair, angrily pacing around the room. 

"Jim, calm down, I'm okay. I'm f..." Blair was cut off by another racking cough and Jim stopped cold and reached for him, pulling him up from the couch. Blair wobbled slightly as he tried to regain his breath, flinching when Jim swore explosively, and gasping again when Jim swung him up into his arms. 

"Jim, what are you..." 

"I'm taking you to the hospital, Chief," Jim said through gritted teeth. 

Blair struggled feebly in Jim's arms. "No, Jim, I don't want to go. You checked my ribs, you know I'm okay" 

"Dammit, Blair..." 

"Jim. Jim. I'm okay. Just relax, big guy, I just need to catch my breath, everything is fine," Blair said slowly, using his Guide voice. It worked slightly in that he felt a slight lessening of tension in Jim's body. 

"I'm sorry, Chief. It's just that I could have really hurt you. I could have..." Jim broke off when Blair laid a hand on his jaw gently. 

"But you didn't, big guy. I'm okay," Blair said. Jim nodded and turned towards the stairs with Blair still in his arms. He climbed the stairs, taking care not to jostle Blair too much. He kissed him on the temple softly when he reached the top of the stairs, before moving over to lay him on the bed. Blair twisted slightly as Jim lay him down and he could not help but let the moan of pain escape from the twisting of his bruised ribs. He looked instantly over at Jim, noting that Jim's face had gone pale. He reached out to Jim instinctively seeking to comfort him but the movement just elicited another gasp of pain. 

The Sentinel's jaw clenched but he reached out with a surprisingly gentle hand to take Blair's outstretched one and squeeze it gently. "Get some sleep, Chief. Please. I..." 

Jim ran a hand over Blair's hair smoothing it back. He kept stroking, listening as Blair's breath began to even out. Blair brought Jim's fingers up to his lips for a gentle kiss "It'll be all right in the morning, Jim. You'll see." Blair yawned hugely. "Promise...all...OK...ning" Blair's eyes fluttered closed and in the blink of an eye, he was asleep. 

Jim straightened with a grimace, pulling his hand free to clench it into a fist. He stumbled down the stairs barely pausing long enough to pull on his coat. Letting himself out of the house, he barely realized where he was going. "All right? All right? Nothing will be all right again. Not as long as I have these damned senses!" Jim muttered. He took a left, walking along the darkened, deserted street, without even a destination in mind. Anger, regret and remorse drove his feet relentlessly along the way. 

He didn't stop until he found himself on Puget Bridge, gazing at the spans as they disappeared in the foggy sky. Needing the isolation and the quiet more than anything else, he started along the pedestrian walkway, striding along until he reached the center span of the bridge, finally coming to a weary halt. 

God, how he hated these damned senses. And damn them to hell for making him hurt Blair. Jim screamed out his rage, head thrown back, the cords in his neck bulging from the exertion. "I don't want them anymore! Do you hear me? Whoever you are. I don't _want_ _them_ " Coming to a choked stop, Jim whispered, "Everyone would be better off if I'd never had them at all." Jim sighed. "It would have been better if I'd never been a sentinel at all" 

He shivered convulsively, feeling the cold and wet for the first time in his walk. He came off the bridge slowly, feet dragging with every step, tracing strange patterns in the snow that were quickly covered up by new flakes as he walked on. 

The walk back to the loft was slower. As the snow collected on his shoulders, he reached indifferent fingers to brush the white stuff away. Finally, bone-cold and soaked to the skin, he arrived back at the loft. Not bothering with the elevator, he trudged up the stairs, feet heavy on the steep steps. When he reached the door to his home, he was surprised to see that he had actually remembered his keys. Snorting at unbreakable habits, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. 

Locking the door behind him, he snagged a towel from the bathroom on his way to the stairs. He walked slowly towards the stairs, stripping and drying off as he went, leaving the clothes in uncaring little pools of wet. He trudged up the stairs, dressed only in his boxers, coming to a halt at the top. Blair lay, curled up under the covers, only the very top of his head visible. A few stray curls feathered out over the pillow. No matter what he did, he didn't think he could make up for hurting him tonight. 

Jim sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, contemplating the blanket-covered form for a moment before sliding quietly under the covers. Blair muttered something incomprehensible under his breath and wriggled over until he was pressed up against Jim's body. Blair shivered once at the feel of the colder body next to him and then lay completely still, breath gently caressing Jim's bare chest. Jim reached out to wrap his arm around Blair's head, feeling the curls wrap themselves around his fingers. He sighed and finally closed reluctant eyes and soon was asleep himself. 

* * *

Sunlight bouncing off his eyelids woke Jim. Turning to pull Blair closer, he turned his head to snuggle his face in Blair's hair, and got a face full of pillow. 

"What?" Jim lifted his head up, looking to see where on the bed Blair had gotten to. He wasn't there. He shook his head slightly, trying to wake up more, wondering why he couldn't sense his guide's presence. He extended his hearing to see if he could hear his guide's heartbeat. 

There was nothing there. 

No sound except for his own heartbeat and the normal morning sounds of the city. 

Jim froze as he realized that not only could he not hear Blair's heartbeat but that he couldn't hear the clock in the kitchen, he couldn't hear the whirring of the VCR, he couldn't even hear that damn drip in the bathroom sink that had been interrupting his sleep for the past week. 

He straightened up suddenly as he realized his hearing was gone. That wasn't quite accurate; he could still hear but not at sentinel level. _Okay, Jim, calm down. This has happened before. One of your senses cut out on you. Just try something else_ he thought to himself, not even realizing he had begun to use the breathing exercise that Blair had taught him to try to calm himself down. 

His nose twitched for only a second and then his heart clenched. It didn't take long to realize he could not detect Blair's scent in the loft. Jim swung his legs over the side of the bed and let his head fall into his hands for just a moment 

_What the hell is going on? Where's Blair? What's wrong with my senses?_ Jim thought to himself. _Maybe Blair's at the University_

Jim calmed down and stood, taking deep breaths resolving not to panic. He stood and made his way over to the closet to pick out some clothes. He opened the door and almost fell to his knees, a sense of panic overwhelming him. All of Blair's clothes were gone! 

He ran down the stairs to what had been Blair's room and yanked the door open. Nothing. No sign of Blair. 

Jim ran back up to his room yanking on his clothes, his movements jerky, not stopping along the way for anything simply getting dressed and running out of the apartment. He had to get to Simon. Maybe Simon knew where Blair was. 

Jim didn't remember the trip to the station. As he pulled into his parking space, he could only be amazed that he hadn't caused an accident. 

Taking a deep breath, Jim stepped out of the truck. Fixing his face into a stoic mask, he prepared to walk into the station. It wouldn't do to go in looking like a deranged nut, no matter what he was feeling inside. His stomach was turning, ice flowing through his veins. There was no way, even without his senses, that Blair could have moved his stuff out of the loft without him hearing it. 

So where was Blair's stuff? For that matter, where was Blair? There was no way that Blair would leave without talking it to death first, not after last night. Especially after last night. 

He slammed the door of the truck closed and crossed the street, entering the station. He raced past familiar faces. In his hurry, he did not notice that not one of the people he passed turned to acknowledge him. The elevator was there and he managed to squeeze in through the open doors just as they were about to close. There was only one other person on the elevator and the man was reading a book, apparently so absorbed that he didn't know that the elevator had taken on another passenger. The elevator stopped and he and the other passenger exited. 

He walked into the bullpen. He had taken about 5 steps when he realized that most of the faces in the room were not at all familiar. The other desks were empty, their usual occupants most likely out on a call. He zeroed in on his own desk briefly noting that there was only one chair behind the desk. The chair where Blair usually sat was gone, adding to his urgency. 

He looked over to Brown and was startled when the man looked up from his paperwork and looked at him, face devoid of expression. Eyes cold. He didn't have time to wonder about it as he reached Simon's office doorway. He looked in through the open doorway and winced as he could see Simon practically shouting into the phone. "I would just like to see him, Joan. He is my son!" 

_Another argument about Daryl_ Jim thought to himself as he waited for the phone conversation to finish. "No I can't promise that.... That's not fair.... Of course I'm concerned about his safety." The rapid-fire answer gave evidence to the heated debate that was occurring. He looked up as Simon gave a sigh and saw his captain rub his eyes, mouth drawing into a tight line. "I know he cared about Joel...he was my friend too but that doesn't mean..." 

_Was?_ Jim thought to himself, perplexed. Why was Simon speaking about Joel in past tense? 

"Look, Joan, he's my son and if I have to take you to court I will. I..." Jim stepped away from the doorway; there was too much pain in there to add to what he was already feeling. He couldn't burst in on Simon who was already in the midst of his own crises. He turned and walked to Brown's desk, waiting for the other man to acknowledge him. 

"What do you want, Ellison?" 

Jim almost jumped back, scalded by the vehemence in Brown's voice. "Something happened to Blair. I need your help," he said, for the moment choosing to ignore whatever was wrong with Brown. He was startled by the ugly laugh that escaped the other man as he stood slowly from his seat. 

"Oh, so now you need my help? Where were you when I needed help? Huh? When Rafe needed you where were you _Jim? _?" he asked, making Jim's name sound like an insult. This time Jim did take a step back from the other man. 

"Look I don't know what the problem is but whatever it is can wait. For now, we need to find Blair." 

"I don't know any Blair," the other man answered, dismissing him coolly as he sat back down to his paperwork. 

"Fine. I'll just ask Simon..." 

"Now I know you've lost it if you think Simon would help you. After what happened to Daryl? Forget it man." 

"What?" Jim asked in shock. 

"Just go...solve a crime or something," Brown said, waving his hand dismissively. "Don't you get it, Ellison? You have no friends here." 

Jim backed away slowly, his thoughts a whirl of confusion. He looked slowly around the room. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were staring with unabashed curiosity at the small melee in the corner. There was more than a touch of hostility in some of those eyes. Jim backed away, confusion and half formed thoughts warring in his head. 

Jim backed slowly out of the room, tension hammering away at his temples, pain spreading mercilessly. He continued his hasty retreat until he hit a wall and encountered protrusions where there had been none before. Jim leapt forward and spun around . . .to discover a memorial. 

A memorial to fallen officers, killed in the line of duty. And the first plaque, the first photograph on that wall belonged to Captain Joel Taggert. 

"No," Jim mouthed, a shudder rippling the skin up and down his spine. "No, that's impossible. I just saw him yesterday. I just had lunch with him. He was teasing Blair." Wide eyed now, Jim continued along the display. Officers Basel and McHenry . . .Others that Jim remembered seeing just yesterday. The last name on the first line almost caused Jim's heart to stop. 

"Rafe," he choked out hoarsely. Jim reached out with numb fingers to trace the name etched into the cold marble. "Oh, God. . . what the hell is happening here?" 

Stepping back, his eyes swept over the rest of the wall, his mind boggled down in amazement and shock over how many were gone. People that shouldn't be gone. Howel. Johnstone. Cassie. _Cassie_!!! He had just had a yelling match with her yesterday! 

He could feel the stares of his fellow officers as they walked around him. Officers that he didn't know. Trying to grasp what was going on, he could feel his breath coming in rapid pants. There was no way this could be a practical joke. None of his friends would have put this much effort into a joke. They wouldn't have been this cruel. 

Maybe, maybe it was a plot by the government to trap him. To break him and make him use his senses for them. To make him their perfect solider. But even that didn't make sense. There were faster, easier ways for them to break him. And he couldn't seem to use his senses now, so what use would he be to them? 

No, this, this monstrous life was real. But how they hell could it be? How could all these officers have been alive and well and happy yesterday, and dead today? They had been dead for months, and even years apparently. How could Brown act like he hated his guts? 

Too many questions were swirling around in his head. None of it could be real; it had to be a sick joke. It just had to be. And where was Blair? There was no way that Blair would have agreed to this. Feeling panic creeping up on him, he turned to the stairs and ran down them, wanting to get out of this twilight zone station as fast as he can. He had to find Blair; he would be able to figure out what was going on. He could get Jim to calm down so he could think. 

As he hit the street in front of the station, he stopped to take a deep breath, ignoring the stares of the people around him. The panic that had been creeping, sitting low in his stomach, suddenly exploded throughout his body and he was running. He ran down the street, his mind blank, just trying to get away from this day, from this waking nightmare he found that he had stepped into. Slowly, out of breath, he found himself alone in a park. The trees were bare, the branches covered in a layer of snow. The sun shone down, the melting snow glittered, creating a beautiful and surreal affect for the stressed out sentinel. 

Walking through the park, he tried to get his thoughts in order, to get himself to think logically, not in flight mode. The one thought that he had was that he had to find Blair. 

"You will not find him here," a voice intoned behind him. 

"What?" he started as he quickly turned, stopping mid-word as he saw Incacha standing in front of him, surrounded by lush jungle. And then he zoned. 

* * *

As the darkness faded, he gaped open mouthed at the Chopec shaman who stood before him. "Greetings, Enqueri," the shaman called out to him in greeting, clasping a hand on his shoulder. The touch served to ground Jim, whose thoughts were jumbled. He opened his mouth to speak, but halted at the minute shake of the shaman's head. Turning with him, they began to walk further into the lush trees, the surreal quality causing Jim to keep his silence though his mind whirled with questions. 

* * *

Jim jumped, startled, as birds flew overhead. They reminded him of years before when he had finally been rescued and taken back home to Cascade. Incacha walked next to him silently, observing as Jim took in his surroundings. 

They were back in the jungle, where Jim had discovered his Sentinel senses. He looked around for the familiar markings of the tribe. To anyone else they would have not been so easily seen but he knew what to look for. He was perplexed when he could see no markings. He turned to Incacha with a perplexed look on his face. 

"Where is the tribe, why aren't they guarding the land?" he asked. 

Incacha said nothing but beckoned for Jim to follow him. They entered deeper into Chopec land until they came upon the tribe, or what was left of it. "Speak freely, Enqueri, for they can not see or hear us," Incacha explained to the sentinel. 

"What is this? Has everyone else gone hunting?" Jim asked, a feeling of dread beginning to well inside of him. 

"No. This is all that remains. They had no one to watch over them. They had no sentinel to protect the tribe. There was a young child...but she did not develop her senses in time. She died with the others," Incacha said. There was no blame or censure in his words. It was simply a statement of fact. Nonetheless, the words stung. 

Jim looked upon the small group of people before them. They worked together building a shelter. Was this all that was left of the tribe? He shook his head. This couldn't possibly be dependant on just one man. Sentinel senses or no, there had to be other factors at work here. Incacha watched him and smiled slightly as he saw the denial show itself on the sentinel's face. 

"You underestimate your own worth, Sentinel," he said as the scene before them shifted. 

Jim blinked, trying to get used to the change of light as he found himself in a building of some sort. He looked around and couldn't help jumping back in surprise as people came bursting into the building, guns in hand. It didn't take long for him to realize where he was. 

He looked over to see a knot of people standing around a table of some sort. He walked over to stand behind one of them to see what they were looking at. 

"Looks like somebody's got your number, Ellison," one of the officers said. 

He looked over, shocked for a moment that this person could actually see him; it was then that he realized he was standing behind himself! 

"Yeah," the other Jim said, nodding his head, his mouth pursing in frustration as he looked down at the magazine with his face on the cover that sat on the table. Jim watched as the other Ellison walked out of the building. This was the case where his enhanced senses had returned he realized. He watched Ellison leave when he suddenly remembered. The bomb. It was set to go off. 

"Oh, God. Get out of here! There is a bomb in here!" Jim shouted to the officer that was standing behind him. The officer continued to look at the magazine, oblivious to what was happening. 

Jim reached for the man desperately. Maybe he could feel him even if he couldn't hear him. He blanched as his hand passed through the other man's arm. He looked frantically at the other Jim walking through the door and shouted to him in the desperate hope that someone, anyone, could hear him. 

"Please, you have to get out of here, the building is going to blow!" No one moved and Jim whirled around to face Incacha who had stood silently beside him. 

"Please, Incacha, let me warn them." 

"No. I'm sorry, I can not. You are not here to protect the tribe, you are here to observe." 

"B-but.... Incacha, they will die otherwise," Jim said. He ran after the other Jim and kept yelling to him but nothing happened until suddenly he heard the roar behind him and the heat on his back. He turned around, horrified to see that he was too late. Screams of agony from those that were outside of the building rose up as they looked to see the flames from the explosion begin to consume the building and with it, their fellow officers. 

Jim fell to his knees, his mouth opening to scream but before he could do so he heard a scream behind him. He turned to see his other self screaming, trying to run back towards the building as the other members of the unit held him back. 

* * *

Jim watched nervously as his counterpart flipped through the paperwork on his desk. They were all printouts of the email transmissions from the Switchman to himself, or to the other Jim rather. The Switchman had sent a taunt to Detective Ellison after all of the destruction at the building. Jim watched in frustration as his counterpart tried to make sense of the various messages and the fact that the copy of the magazine with his face on the cover had been at the building before it blew up. He could do nothing for his double. He only had but a moment more to observe the mounting frustration before the scene once again shifted. 

This time Jim found himself watching as his counterpart circled around a bus. He held his breath as he stood behind Ellison and saw Veronica Sarras on the bus, gun drawn, panting like a rabid animal...or like a woman on the edge of insanity. Jim instinctively reached for his gun only to have Incacha place a hand on his arm, he had forgotten, guns had no power in this space he inhabited. Nothing he had at his disposal had any power, he could only observe and not do anything to change events. He could already see how things were drastically different from his own experience, they were much worse. At least before, the bus had been on open road, no one really around them. Now the truck sat parked in the street, the passengers just having gotten on to begin their tour. Luckily Jim's counterpart had spotted Veronica Sarras boarding the bus, but what to do now? There was no back up and he didn't know what she had at her disposal. 

"Veronica!" 

Jim watched as Veronica turned her head slowly to look at his counterpart. She smiled a slow smile and kept the gun trained on the passengers. Both Jims took an instinctive step forward in their concern for the passengers. 

"Don't try it, Ellison," she warned. 

"Let them go, Veronica, they didn't do anything to you," Ellison answered. 

"I didn't do anything to you either" 

"What?" 

"I didn't do anything to you, yet you took my dad away. You let him die," she said, voice shaky with rage. 

Both Jims' eyes flicked for a second to a little girl who was staring out through one of the windows; she looked so frightened. 

"Veronica, listen to me. There is no reason for this..." 

"No reason! What do you mean no reason? Do you have any idea what you did to me?" Both Jims held their breath trying to figure out what could be done. Veronica was unstable. Ellison took another step forward. 

"Don't fuck with me, Ellison. One more step and this bus and everyone on it goes sky high. Just add it to the tally of the people you have killed." Veronica sneered. 

Jim tried to think it through; there were no options here. He knew what the other Ellison was thinking as he lowered his gun slightly. 

"Okay, okay. Veronica, let them go, take me instead," he said. 

"What?" she said eyeing the gun suspiciously. Her eyes darted back to the passengers to make sure they didn't move. 

"I'm serious," Ellison said. 

"So am I," she said, digging in her pocket for a remote control device "If you try anything...." 

"I won't," Jim promised, body tensing, getting ready to duck as he set the gun down on the ground on a show of good faith. 

She didn't respond for a moment, and then she finally stepped back and motioned for Jim to get on the bus. 

Jim watched as his counterpart boarded the bus, his movements kept small so as not to alarm Veronica into setting off the bomb or firing off the gun. She told him to get to the back of the bus and then had the passengers get off the bus soon it was just Ellison, Veronica and the driver. She smiled at him and it chilled him to the bone. She turned slightly towards the driver, still keeping the gun trained on Ellison. Jim gritted his teeth as he waited for the scene between his counterpart and Veronica Sarras to play out. 

It was an unnecessary wait. 

* * *

Dim light. The strong smell of gasoline. Jim looked around to find himself in the police station garage. He looked at the man standing beside him. 

"What?" Jim's eyes narrowed with confusion. "What are we doing here?" 

Incacha smiled slightly and touched his arm with gentle fingers. "Patience, Enqueri. Let the past unfold itself in its own time." 

Jim's eyes widened in stunned understanding. "The past . . . " 

Jim whipped his head around to see his truck driving slowly into the garage and into his parking space. The door opened and his other self got out, slammed the door, and started into the building. There was no sign of Blair. Jim started to follow that self into the elevator but his eye was caught by something. Something that seemed out of place and niggled at his mind. Two uniforms were standing around a car. They looked familiar . . . 

"My God," Jim whispered. "Kincaid's men." 

He watched in horror as they opened up the car trunk and he glimpsed the dead body of one of his co-workers. Jim spun around and yelled at his other self to turn around, trying to warn him, trying to prevent the chaos that was about to come. His attempt failed as the other Ellison continued, oblivious, into the elevator and disappeared behind the closed door. 

"Incacha!" Jim grabbed the shaman's arm in a slightly panicked grip. "We have to warn them! We have to stop this." 

Incacha looked at him with solemn eyes. "Sentinel. This is no longer your time. You have walked this path before. Now you have taken a different way. What happens now must be left in the hands of another." 

Jim blinked and, in that fleeting moment of time, found himself standing in Simon's office watching his superior officer talking with his past self. Then the door opened and a teenager entered the room, looking slightly sullen. Jim listened with returning memory as the introductions began. 

"Daryl, you remember Detective Ellison." 

His other self returned, "I hear you guys are gonna have a hell of a weekend." 

Jim felt the tension in his body dissipate a bit. So far, everything looked pretty normal, just the way it had happened before. It had all turned out all right the first time it had happened, everything would be all right again. And this time, Blair would be spared. His love would be spared from the fear and the violence. Something was finally going to turn out for the better. 

Jim, silent, continued to watch the events play out in front of him. He watched the alternate Jim make a lunch date with Carolyn and he smiled slightly. Jim grimaced at the thought that _this_ Jim might wind up getting together again with Carolyn. God knew if it hadn't been for Blair . . . No, he wasn't going to go there. 

Then a large, African-American man walked up. Taggert. Joel Taggert, alive and well. Jim felt a grin take over his face. God, it was great to see him. Then a shiver attacked and rolled up through his spine. Taggert had been wounded during the siege on the station. What if for some reason . . . No, he refused to think that. How could the loss of his senses influence a shot that had been taken when he hadn't even been present? Jim listened intently to the nearby conversation. 

"Hey, Jim," Taggert began. Did you hear about Alton and Morrison? They were just convicted for the ferryboat bombing. Life sentences for both." 

"That's only two of them," his alternate self countered. 

Jim nodded to himself. That case had been solved without those damned senses of his. He listened, the Chopec man slightly behind him, as the two other men continued. 

"Yeah, but the way Garrett Kincaid disappeared, maybe the Sunrise Patriots are gone for good." 

"Yeah and maybe the sun won't rise." 

Jim, forgetting for a moment, stepped forward. "Listen to him ...er...me. . um." 

Oblivious to the warning, the two men continued on their way, leaving Jim and his escort standing unseen by the desk. Jim sighed and closed his eyes in slight frustration. At least Blair wouldn't be caught up in all this. 

Opening his eyes, he found that once again he had shifted locations. Once again he was following his other self as that Jim was talking with his ex-wife. He watched as they got into the truck and drove away. Jim glanced at the man trailing him who hadn't said a word since the last time they had been in this garage. 

"What's the point of all this?" Jim waved a dismissive hand at the garage, using the gesture to encompass the entire station in his question. 

"The point, Enqueri?" The Chopec looked at him with questioning eyes. 

"Why have you brought me here? What . . ." Jim was interrupted by the sight of wave after wave of police officers running to their cars and pealing off into the streets. Then Jim's body jerked with the sound of automatic gunfire somewhere in the building above cutting through his hearing. 

"It's started," Jim whispered. He tried to make his way to the elevator but Incacha didn't move. "Come on, we have to . . . " 

Incacha sighed. "Have to what, Enqueri?" 

Jim blinked. "We . . . we have to . . . " 

Incacha guided him out the garage door before the gates came down, watching with interest as they closed and locked behind them. "What has happened has happened, Enqueri. What we see before us now is merely the reflection of the past, like the view of yourself in a pond. Try to affect it, and the only thing to do is watch the ripples. The reflection will return, unaltered." 

"But I . . . " 

"You have chosen. This is no longer your destiny. You have stepped out of the river; the other belongs now. To sink or swim as he will," Incacha countered. 

Jim watched as his other self pulled up, Carolyn still in the truck. Gunfire, then the truck pulled back out of sight. The Chopec took his sleeve and tugged him towards the gate. Jim gasped quietly as they passed through it without effort. He watched as the alternate tried to call for help, with no luck. 

But then . . . Jim's blood ran cold. When Carolyn asked what was going on, the other Jim quietly stated that it looked like someone had taken over the building. Jim stepped closer. 

"Hey! It's Kincaid and his militiamen. Can't you _hear_ that? Why don't you listen? Why . . . " Jim's question slid to a horrified halt. Incacha looked at him with a calm gaze. 

Jim glanced first at the building then at the two people crouched behind the truck. "He . . . he _can't_ listen. He can't hear anything going on in there, can he?" 

Incacha followed his glance. "He is not Enqueri," the older man stated simply. 

Before Jim could reply, Simon pulled up with a screech. Jim watched as his other self pulled the captain behind the relative safety of the truck, as the taller man cried out for his son. Jim swallowed the increasing panic down as his hands began to tremble slightly. 

Events moved faster. The phone call, the realization at last that it was Kincaid that was behind all this. The threat to Daryl. And this time, there was no reassurance for Simon from Jim. Daryl's cries seared Jim's nerves. He crouched down, covering his ears against the audial assault. It was brutal living through this a second time. 

Soon the cries stopped and Daryl was safely inside the building. Jim breathed a sigh of relief, standing up and uncovering his ears. Daryl was still safe. This would be all over soon he tried to convince himself. 

Jim followed the three people as they tried to plan a rescue. When they got a hold of a sewer system map, Jim breathed a sigh of relief. Things were going along as they had before. This time . . . this time his giving up of his senses made no difference at all. And, better, this time Blair was not in the middle of it all. He didn't have to worry about Blair being hurt by the Sunrise Patriots. Blair was safe. He followed Simon and the other Jim into the system. He grimaced at the smell and fought to get his reaction under control. This was also better; the self that could affect things was no longer distracted by the stench. He watched, trailing along behind as the two policemen traced their way along the darkened tunnels. Then Simon's voice cut through the air. 

"There should be a bend to the left right here." They stopped and looked around puzzled. The two men looked at the map they held and Simon bit his lip. 

"We're running out of time, Jim." 

Jim, from his place to the rear, muttered, "It's right here." Forgetting, he raised his voice. "Can't you tell? Can't you smell the gasoline? Can't you . . . " His voice died. He looked at Incacha who shook his head. 

"No." Jim whispered. He gritted his teeth as the two men moved off, wandering farther away from the entrance into the station, farther away from where they most needed to be. 

Jim trailed along silently, not even glancing at his Chopec companion as the two detectives finally gave up and made their way back to the manhole where they could exit into the street again. What they came across made them stop in horror. 

The entire bottom few floors of a nearby building had been completely destroyed. Simon grimaced. "Good thing the block was evacuated. That's the first thing that's gone right today." 

The two men went back to the truck and crouched behind it. Jim remained by the smoldering building with his companion. Silently they waited. The distinctive sound of an approaching helicopter soon cut through the unnatural silence of the city street. 

Jim looked up, as did the three other men situated outside the station. A large yellow helicopter was coming to a landing on the roof of the department building. As everyone's attention was fixed on the approaching helicopter, they almost missed the garage gates opening. When the van came barreling out of the garage exit, Simon and Jim's past self leaped out from behind the truck, guns raised. 

A fierce firefight ensued as one or the other of the two cops managed to blow out two of the tires and the van's occupants had to return fire or be taken. When it was over, three of the terrorists were dead, the rest handcuffed in the back of their van. And the helicopter was taking off, disappearing quickly into the deep blue sky. The police officers made their quiet but swift way into the besieged stationhouse, followed closely by the two out-of-place observers. The station was eerily quiet, footsteps echoing hollowly in the deserted hallways. 

Soon the men approached the doors to Major Crime. Jim's alternate self looked back, swallowed audibly and nodded at his captain. Then at an unvoiced count of three, kicked the doors open, and the two officers entered the office, guns drawn and ready only to come to a horrified halt. From his view over his counterpart's shoulder, Jim gasped. 

There was blood everywhere. Two militiamen lay on their backs, dead, guns still clenched in stiffening fingers. But the worst sight lay further beyond. Lieutenants Rodriguez and Wang were dead, eyes open and staring. Jeanie, one of the file clerks sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a bloody arm close to her side. 

Jim moaned out loud at the sight that next caught his eyes. Joel Taggert lay unmoving on the ground, head on Rhonda's lap. Rhonda looked up the staring cops. 

"He's dead," the woman choked, tears running freely down her cheeks. "He saved us all. He _knew_. . . . He knew they were going to kill us. They tried to herd us to the back of the office. To make us turn our backs to them. He fooled them though. He took a few steps and just . . . pivoted . . . and attacked them. He didn't have a gun and he jumped two armed men. They . . . they shot him instantly but he distracted them long enough for some of the rest to get there. Oh, God." Rhonda stroked the hair on the head in her lap and cried, words barely distinguishable through the sobs. "He saved all our lives." 

Jim made a small wounded noise in the back of his throat. "Joel," he whispered in pain. "Oh, Joel . . . " 

Another sound of pain caught his ears and he looked up to see Simon looking around wildly. "Daryl?! Daryl? Son, where are you? DARYL!" 

Lt. Johnson, a man who worked under Taggert on the bomb squad came up to Banks and laid a hand on his arm. "Captain," the man said, unshed tears in his eyes. "Captain, I'm sorry." 

Simon choked. "Oh God. No. He's not . . .?" 

Lt. Johnson shook his head. "He's not dead. But . . . Kincaid said he needed a hostage. Someone important . . . important enough to get him safe passage." 

Simon howled in pain and slammed his fist into the nearby file cabinet. "No! Damn it." He glared at the man standing in shock next to him. "Damn you, Jim. You were supposed to get us in here! You were an Army Ranger, for Christ's sake. How could you get lost? You had a goddamned map. How the fuck could you get lost? Damn you." Simon broke off, sagging to his knees, and cried like a baby. 

Jim felt a gentle hand on his upper arm. "Come, Enqueri. It is time to go." 

Jim pulled back slightly. "But . . . we have to . . ." 

The Chopec shaman shook his head. "It is time." 

Jim was still shaking his head in denial when everything went black. 

* * *

Jim came out of darkness again. This time to a bright day filled with sunshine. Its very brightness belaying the somber scene before him. 

Cops. Dozens upon dozens of cops, all in dress uniform. And all sorts of other men and women all in dark clothing. The mayor was standing at the podium, giving a long-winded eulogy, were the expressions of the mourners anything to go by Jim turned to his companion. 

"What's going on? Who . .. Who died?" He was afraid to find out, yet unable to ask. The Chopec warrior looked at him with infinitely sad eyes. 

Then Jim caught the last of the eulogy. "And so, Beverly Sanchez, we lay you to rest." Incacha's voice washed over Jim's shock. "A great loss. And so soon after your young warrior brother. Jim looked with wide eyes at the man beside him. 

"No, Enqueri, you weren't able to save young Danny in this lifewalk either." 

Jim felt the pain of Danny's death again. But this time there was no Blair by his side to help him deal with the pain. He had been helpless to stop Danny's death but what about Sanchez? He walked closer to the crowd, watching as people here and there whispered to one another, dabbing tears from their eyes. He listened in on a few whispered snatches of conversations, anecdotes told in remembrance of the DA. 

Looking further up into the back of the crowd, he glanced upon a person that seemed very familiar too him though he couldn't immediately place him since the man kept his head somewhat bowed. 

At first Jim thought the head was bowed in grief. But as he walked closer he saw that instead there was a slight smile on the man's face as he talked to his companion. He gasped in shock, outrage stiffening his body as the other man raised his head. 

Juno. 

He could not believe that the other man had the audacity to come to the funeral. He found himself shouting to the surrounding officers to arrest this killer who stood among them. But of course, they could not hear him. 

"Can you believe this?" he heard Juno say to his companion as he reached them. 

"These idiots don't even know I'm here. I bet you they are still investigating whether or not I killed Sanchez." Juno laughed harshly. "Morons. Let them sift through their paperwork; by the time they figure themselves out I'll be gone. I just came today to pay my last respects," he said, laughing as he and his companion turned to walk away. 

Jim felt the rage build within him and without thought jumped towards Juno intending to bring him crashing down to the ground. He yelled in frustration as he passed through Juno and fell to the ground as the world around him faded to black. 

* * *

Jim blinked as the world came back into focus. He was flat on the ground, his face kissing the dirt and pine needles covering it. 

"I'm really starting to fucking hate this," he growled as he picked himself up. Dusting his hands off, he looked around noticing how dark it was. In the middle of the forest, no sentinel sight to guide him, and totally clueless. He couldn't remember a case that had been in the forest. At least not in the time frame that this whole thing seemed to be working in. 

Looking up to the moonless sky. "Some hints would be really good here," he muttered. Not really expecting an answer. A loud bang behind him caused him to jump. Blinking, he turned and noticed, for the first time, flashing red and blue lights. 

"Well, well ask and you shall receive," he muttered. 

Walking towards the lights, he dreaded what he was going to find. He found it hard to believe all the horrible changes that his not being a Sentinel had caused. All the pain and death. It boggled his mind to think that all the time he thought he had failed because he didn't use his senses like he should, that maybe he stopped it from being a lot worse. Entering a clearing, he found himself on the edge of a pond on the outskirts of the warehouse district. There were cop cars everywhere, officers milling around as they looked for clues. He walked in closer, heading for the edge of the duck pond where the most action seemed to be. 

Duck Pond. 

Lash. 

"Oh hell," he whispered as a feeling of dread washed over him. He knew now what he was going to find at the edge of the pond. And he didn't want to see it, couldn't stand the thought of seeing it. But he couldn't stop himself from moving forward. 

"Oh please, let me be wrong about this, oh please," he choked out. But he wasn't being listened to this time. 

The body had been pulled from the water, but had not yet been placed into its body bag. Ignoring the forensics people that were around it, he walked right up to it, dropping to his knees next to the head. Staring in mindless shock as he looked into the sightless glassy blue eyes of his lover. 

Blair's face was twisted in fear, ashen and white, his hair was soaked and crumpled around him. Jim could hear the others talking around him, bitching about how Lash had gotten away. Worried about the work they would have to do to find out who this stupid college age hippie was. 

He tuned them out, focusing slowly on his motionless love. Reaching out, he traced the blue lips with his finger. Those wonderfully soft lips that gave life to the rich, musical voice that drove him wild. Lips he had never known in this lifetime. Music that would never brighten the world again. Tears falling down his face, he closed his eyes at the horrible feeling of having his heart pulled out. He screamed in horror as the world went black again. 

* * *

When the blackness was once again chased away, Jim found himself kneeling on the mossy ground of the jungle, Incacha silent beside him. Jim levered himself to his feet, grief and anger overwhelming him. He lashed out. 

"What the hell happened? Blair was supposed to be safe. I gave it all up so that he would be safe. He wasn't with me; he didn't have to be there to help me. I could have taken anything if he was all right!" Jim trailed to a halt, anger gone, leaving only grief. "What happened?" he begged to know. 

"Your young companion lost his home in an explosion. He had nowhere else to go, no safe haven. When he went to the station, to tell those in charge what had happened for their records. There was another young man there. One with a twisted soul who discovered that your companion had what he wanted. Humor. Reliance. A life. And so. . . .he took them. And this time, there was no protector to stop him." 

"NO! No, Dammit! This wasn't supposed to happen like this. I just wanted him to be safe." He turned away from Incacha and closed his eyes as if to block the image of his lover's body lying on the ground as the police talked about him callously. 

"I just wanted him to be safe," he repeated to himself softly. 

Jim's hands tightened into fists as he once again turned to face Incacha. "I have to go back. I want to be a sentinel again," he said desperately through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to clutch at the shaman. 

"Are you sure, Sentinel?" 

"Yes! I need Blair. This life that we've seen is no kind of life at all. I-I don't want Blair to end up... The world needs people like him, Incacha. _I_ need him." 

Jim stepped forward hesitantly until he stood directly in front of the shaman. "And Taggert and Beverly Sanchez and Rafe, all those people. All that death... Simon and Brown are suffering too." Jim's voice faltered for a minute before regaining strength. "Send me back, Incacha. I'm the Sentinel of the Great City and they are my tribe it is up to me to protect them and to be my guide's blessed protector," he said as he looked into Incacha's eyes, not allowing his gaze to falter. 

Incacha looked back at him somberly for a moment before allowing a slight smile to touch his lips. "Yes, I think you understand now," he said reaching up to touch Jim lightly on the temple. And as simply as that the world faded away again. 

* * *

He became aware of a weight on the mattress next to him, a heat source much too close for his liking. The breath of the body ran over his arm, raising goose bumps. God, he did not want to know. He would not look. Hell, considering how things had gone, it would be Cassie next to him. They could be married with three kids. A shudder ran through him at the horror at that thought. The body next to him stirred at the movement. 

Jim closed his eyes again and took another breath trying to steady Himself, opening them as the scent of his guide enveloped him. It couldn't be? Could it? 

Was that really Blair beside him? He didn't know if he could trust his own senses. Hope flared within him but he stamped it down not willing to brave the fall should it turn out his sense of smell had been playing tricks on him. He almost didn't want to look but he had to know. He needed to find out if that was really Blair beside him or merely his imagination. He steeled himself and turned slowly towards the source of the heat at his side. His breath caught in his throat at the vision before him. 

Blair lay curled on his side facing Jim, a tendril of his hair falling forward onto his face. He still had his jeans and clothes on from the night before. Jim shook his head ruefully. Had it only been the night before? It seemed so long ago. A lifetime. 

There it was. The heartbeat. Blair's heartbeat. He began to tremble at the sound. 

"Blair," he whispered softly, watching as the other man stirred at the mention of his name. He had to know...he had to touch him. He had to touch this vision and make sure it did not fade away. 

He reached forward, hand trembling slightly, and hesitated just as he was about to touch Blair's face. What if it wasn't real? He had to know...he had to... 

He almost sobbed as he felt the heat emanating from Blair beckon his hand, calling him to touch, to explore. To ease his mind. 

"Jim," the soft voice, more an exhalation of breath than the actual formation of a word. Even in his sleep, Blair knew just what to do to soothe him. 

Jim's hand finally continued its journey. Touching softly, the lips that had spoken his name just moments earlier. He traced the full lips and shivered as the warmth of Blair's breath breezed over his sensitive skin. 

There was one final test. One final thing he needed to know that Blair was truly there beside him. He let his hand drift to cup Blair's cheek and leaned forward pressing a soft kiss on Blair's mouth, almost crying out for joy as the taste of Blair, his Blair overwhelmed his senses. 

Blair opened brilliant blue eyes to gaze fuzzily up at his lover. 

"Hey," came the husky whisper, "is it Christmas yet?" 

Jim closed his eyes from the rush of emotion that spread through his body. As an answer he lowered his head for another kiss, feeling Blair respond, stirring deliciously underneath him. The kiss deepened as Blair awakened more fully, lips parting to accept the caresses of Jim's lips and tongue. 

Jim levered himself up so that he straddled Blair, his knees on either side of him, breaking the kiss to trail his lips across Blair's cheekbone and down his neck to rest at the hollow of his throat. The strong pulse that beat underneath his hand yet another thing to soothe his mind. 

Jim reached up to bury both hands in the sleep mussed curls of his lover's head, reveling in the silky feelings twining around his fingers and tickling his palms. Shudders coursing through his body, Jim moved up to once again possess Blair's mouth with his own. 

The detective's trembling finger's trailed down the body underneath him to fumble at buttons. Soon becoming impatient, his hand tore at the shirt causing buttons to fly. He was impatient to touch the skin underneath. He needed to feel Blair's warmth, to banish the images of his lover lying so still at that duck pond. He trembled slightly as the images overwhelmed him only to feel Blair shift beneath him and turning until it was he who was being straddled by the other man. Blair, who was once again saying his name softly, called him back from his torment. 

Jim reached up a hand to stroke over Blair's warm skin, careful, even in his need, to avoid hurting Blair's ribs any further. He let his arm fall back to the bed and contented himself with simply looking up at his lover, alive and healthy. 

Blair stared down at Jim's face tenderly. The eyes that locked with his held so much tenderness in them it made the breath catch in Blair's throat. Jim was so serious. So still. 

Finally he moved. He brought his hand up and wound a curl around his finger, staring at it wonderingly. Blair didn't need sentinel senses to feel the tremor that ran through his partner. 

"Jim?" he said softly as a suspicious brightness entered his lover's eyes. Jim said nothing for a moment, to caught up in the memory of what he had seen. Of the life that could have been. When he had seen Blair after Lash... all he had wanted to do was touch him, even if it was just a lock of his hair. He wanted to say he was sorry. 

He had caused it; it was because of him that Blair had died in that other life. The memories became too much and he really began to tremble in earnest, pulling Blair down and hugging him fiercely, crushing him to his chest. 

"Jim. Jim, it's all right. We're all right," Blair said as he brushed his hand over the other man's hair. Using the motion and his voice to soothe him. 

"Oh, God, Chief! I lost you. You were d-d..." 

"Shh. Jim, it's okay. I'm right here, baby. Everything is fine." Blair said as he tried to school his voice. The anguish of his mate ripped at him so that it felt as if it were his own. 

"Oh, Blair, I love you so much. So much," Jim whispered into his ear. 

Blair pushed up as Jim relaxed his hold and looked again into Jim's eyes. He knew then what his mate needed to know that Blair was alive and well and with him. 

"Show me," he said softly. 

He watched as the eyes of his sentinel were cleared slowly of the anguish. He didn't know as of yet what had spooked the other man so. All he knew was that Jim needed him. To feel him there. Blair felt his own pangs of pain at his mate's suffering. Jim needed this, and so did he. He leaned down slowly so that their lips were just centimeters apart. 

"Show me," he whispered again. He felt a tremble run again through his lover's frame but this time, he was sure the cause was different than before. 

He leaned down and brushed his lips over Jim's before pulling back slightly. Jim's eyes had closed just seconds before the kiss and Blair waited for them to open again. 

Jim's eyes opened and his eyes locked with Blair for a moment before he finally smiled, the smile finally...finally! spreading to his eyes. "I will," Jim said, turning over with Blair in his arms. 

Blair spread his legs to allow Jim to settle between them as Jim reached a hand up to trace over his face. 

"I will show you," he said again as his hand traveled down to trace over those full lips, before he leaned down and replaced his fingers with his mouth. 

Jim nibbled gently at his lover's lips, tracing his teeth's path with the tip of his tongue. The full lips parted and Jim deepened the kiss, drinking in the essence of the man underneath him. He reached his hands up, to tangle them in the riotous curls, feeling the silky strands wrap and tangle themselves around his finger. He lifted his head and planted gentle kisses, first on one of Blair's temples, then the other, feeling the pulse beat softly under the skin. He trailed his kisses down Blair's cheekbone and jaw to the base of his throat. 

Blair gasped as Jim sucked suddenly at his collarbone. Jim kissed his way to Blair's chest, taking the right nipple in astonishingly gentle teeth, laving it with his tongue. Blair's head fell back against the pillow as he cried out wordlessly. Jim remembered to give the left one the same consideration before he continued his journey down his love's body. Briefly tracing the navel, he lowered his head just a little more and finally reached his goal. 

The scent of Blair's arousal assailed him and he breathed in deeply, his own arousal increasing in response. He shifted further down between Blair's legs and briefly, so briefly Blair thought he might have imagined it, he licked at the slit at the top of Blair's cock. The taste of Blair's precum, exploded into his mouth and he had to distance himself before he came without reaching his ultimate goal. He turned his head to the side and took a calming breath before turning back to Blair. 

Blair's head was thrown back a slight flush stained his skin. His chest rose and fell with his breath, the movement drawing Jim's attention to Blair's nipples that he had laved earlier before his gaze traveled further down Blair's body to his lover's cock. 

He had never seen anyone so beautiful, for that was the only word adequate enough, in all of his life. 

"Blair," he called to his love. He watched as Blair blinked and looked down to him, trying to collect his thoughts. He waited until Blair's eyes connected with his and smiled down to him slightly before he moved forward again. 

"I love you," he said to Blair, keeping his eyes locked on his as he took Blair's penis into his mouth. He suckled his lover's cock in his mouth one hand reaching forward to stroke his mate's thigh soothingly. He watched as Blair's eyes fluttered closed despite his obvious attempts to keep eye contact. It didn't matter really; he had long ago memorized the exact shade of his blue of his lover's eyes. The look of love there that was so often turned his way. He released Blair's cock replacing his mouth with his hand as he moved to lie beside his lover. 

Blair opened his eyes, his breath hitching slightly as he felt Jim's hand stroke him so tenderly. He leaned up, kissing Jim softly moaning as the other man opened his mouth in invitation. 

Jim smiled slightly at the other man's moaned response to his instinctive invitation. He felt Blair's tongue enter his mouth to seek his own. He gave his own moaned response as he felt his partner's hand brush against his abdomen searchingly before moving lower to grasp his arousal lightly. His mouth tore away from his partner's and he gasped for breath as Blair's teasing grasp tightened. Blair set up a rhythm to complement Jim's stroking and they lost themselves again within each other's gaze. It didn't take long before a dual cry of completion was heard and the evidence of their lovemaking mingled between them. 

They collapsed fully onto the bed, each having just enough strength to wrap his arms comfortingly around the other. And Jim, not for the first time, realized what a gift he had been given -- not only with his senses, but in the ability to share his life with the man nestled within his embrace. Yes, there were times when things would get rough, but as long as he had Blair...The younger man in his arms was all he had ever wanted. He was everything to him. 

He was love. He was life. And he had chosen to gift Jim with all these things. And there was _nothing_ Jim would want to change about that. 

\--The End-- 

This story was started years ago on IRC sometime before Christmas during the second season of TS. Every year since then around holiday time one of the writers suddenly remembered the story, dusted it off and it was worked on a little more. Some things have changed since then in that a couple of us have left TS fandom or lessened our roles in it but the desire to finish the story remained and it's finally finished! :-) So, there it is, a few years late but hopefully still enjoyable. :-) 


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